


Let the Scotch Speak for You

by aquazephyrus



Series: I Knew You'd Finally Understand [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquazephyrus/pseuds/aquazephyrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the drinking seemed to do was make the problems they've had for seven months get bigger and bigger until it finally caused the esteemed unit chief to blow up at the genius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Scotch Speak for You

**Author's Note:**

> "When you love someone, don’t give him up without a fight."
> 
> \- -
> 
> Spoilers post-7.01: It Takes a Village

Glass number... he lost count, hand pouring another few ounces of scotch from the bottle shakily and putting it down. He picked up the glass, drinking the liquor and feeling the burn down his throat when someone knocked at ths door. A growl escaped him, and the esteemed unit chief stood up. He was swaying when he growled out, "Who th' _fuck_ is it?"

 

"It's me, Hotch. Open up."

 

The words stung him, and he stumbled over whilst fumbling with the lock and the deadbolt. He had only gotten the deadbolt done when the door seemed to open, and he blindly wondered if Reid still had the key- or if he'd left it unlocked in the first place.

  


Spencer opened the door, glancing at Aaron Hotchner and wrinkling his nose. The man must have gone through about a half a bottle of some sort of alcohol- scotch for sure- and he wasn't in a right state of mind. But then again... after Emily and Doyle, Pakistan- who could really blame him? He shut the door and tilted his head at the man, speaking quietly. Jack was surely sleeping. "...you've been drinking. Again."

 

The man uncharacteristically raised his arms and snorted. "What's it matter to you?"

  


"It matters because you're my boyfriend, Aaron."

  


The words had more of a sting than they should have. The man made another noise, a snort a derision and shrugged. "Yeah? That a title? Can't wave it around like it's a goddamn flag, Spencer. 's not how it works."

  


The man opened his mouth, not thinking for the briefest of moments. "What's gotten into you?" he snapped. "I mean, I know you're drunk, and around a good quarter, thirty-five percent of the time you're drunk... you just- start blaming me for a bunch of shit. And  _don't say you don't do that._ Because you do, and I've seen it, Aaron."

  


"Could you just fuck off for the one night I'm fuckin' drunk?"

  


"No! I care about you!" Reid growled. "Jesus christ! What is honestly wrong with you?!"

  


The flood of the last seven months just seemed to suddenly hit the unit chief with everything it was worth, and the man grit his teeth and grabbed the glass. He finished the last of it and slammed it down on the table, aware that Jack was probably sleeping with a closed door and was either going to get woken up- or not. One of the two options. But right now, he didn't care as he rounded on the young man in front of him. "You want to know what's wrong with me, Reid?  _Fine._

  


"Last seven goddamn months I've been sitting in the office playing unit chief and acting Section Chief, I've been keeping Emily's secret that she was actually alive and not dead. I've been trying to be a dad for Jack, and I seem to be doing a shitty job at that! You and I haven't had a fucking decent talk in months because you kept going over to JJ's about Emily and didn't talk to me about it... and then I get  _fucking deployed_ to Pakistan of all place for four months!!" The entire time, Hotch was waving his arms and hands with tears beginning to shine in his eyes. 

  


He continued on, ranting and getting louder. "You didn't call! You didn't try to talk to me! I was fucking worried about you the entire damn time, and I didn't know if you even wanted me anymore to a point where I knew I was gonna come home, and you weren't gonna be there! And this is all because I tried to protect Emily! I tried to protect our  _friend!_ "

  


Spencer didn't move. Actually, he couldn't move. Period. He was frozen in place, staring at Aaron with a look of anger that slowly melted in despair. Sadness etched on his features. "A-Aaron..."

  


"No, guess what!" Aaron stood close to his boyfriend now, the tears now running down his face. "I'm done! I can't do this anymore! It's my fucking fault I decided to put Emily in Paris. I made the fucking decision to get her out of here. I did that! And you know what it's cost me?!" He gestured around and looked back at Spencer. " _Everything_ ! You, me, my relationship with the team, with  _**JACK** _ for god's sake...! G-God... d-dammit..."

  


It had become too much for the man to handle, and he threw himself back on the couch, head in one hand and arm propped on the armrest. He was shaking with wracking sobs, tears running down his face as Spencer timidly took a few steps towards him. Never before- okay, once before he had seen Aaron in this state, and that was after Haley's death. But this was entirely new to him. New and rather unnerving to be the one who would try and comfort the standing rock of the entire team- and him. His hand was up briefly before lowering it, hesitating.

  


Should he?

  


Spencer finally walked over and slowly sat next to Aaron, who was finally beginning to calm down a little bit and placed a hand on his knee. This automatically got a response of Aaron curling closer, even if it was just from human contact and not the person who was touching him. Next to him, eyes closed and shuddering deep breaths. "I... I'm sorry. I jus'... I..."

  


The man wrapped his arms around Aaron, keeping him close with a whisper. "I promise. I'm not mad at you anymore. Maybe I was once before, but now..."

  


He couldn't get out the last couple words before the unit chief curled up even more in his arms, buried his face into his shoulder, and cried.


End file.
